Posted in Daily post

Waiting ….

DSC02416
I miss mum

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What’s taking her so long?

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Hang on! Is that mum’s car?

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Yes I think so.  Finally.


 

Waiting…

Waiting is part excitement and part anguish. The part anguish is made up of plethora of sub emotions.  Anguish divvies into several heads like the Hindu Gods.  Boredom, impatience and then progresses to annoyance, irritation and finally escalates to panic.  Usually does a full circle and completes with relief and sometimes unfortunately disappointment.

This was my great epiphany while waiting for my mum at the airport.

Mum was returning after her three month holiday overseas.  I cooked, shopped and stocked her fridge yesterday.  Set my alarm up for an early start.  Tossed and turned all night, worrying if I may miss the alarm.  Woke up earlier than the alarm and thought it was for the best.  But still the daily chores got in the way of being early at the airport.

As per ‘Murphy’s Law’ every slow driver and every red light was my companion for the drive.  After circling three times, I finally manage to park my car.  I was just hoping that for my sake that either there was a delay in baggage collection or at customs and that mum wasn’t waiting anxiously for me.

I glance at the flight status board as I rush in.  Good, the flight has not landed.  I contemplate grabbing a coffee, I didn’t want to part with the money just as mum exited those doors.  I decided on having that coffee after all.  Made the request for a short macchiatto, just in case I didn’t have enough time to finish a larger coffee.  Perched myself on the bar stool that had the direct view of the arrivals.  Even though I was running late, I still came prepared with my little ‘mini tab’ to do some writing.  Just in case.

By this time it was half an hour passed arrival time.  Flight status remained the same.  Another fifteen minutes passes.  Under the guise of writing my emotions were getting the better of me.  I skipped boredom.  Patience – I wasn’t impatient waiting but the airport arrivals website was definitely testing my patience.  

As per the website there was no mention of the aircraft.  This website is supposed to show all flights that was meant to arrive on that day and their flight status.  Frustrated,  I decided to check the Malaysian airlines website.  It stated that the plane had departed Malaysia.  And that’s all.  No mention of delayed or approximate time of arrival.  I gave another ten minutes and checked the two websites again.  Same messages.  On Adelaide airport’s website there was no mention or acknowledgement of the aircraft and Malaysian Airlines just says that it departed.

My mind was refusing to come out of the pit of panic.  Fates of MH137 and MH17 infiltrates logical thinking.  My positive outlook and glass half full attitude were shying away to the back seat.  Still I muster everything in me not to panic as I logically think that no one else was panicking around me.  I think maybe just maybe ‘flight tracker’ should/could tell me more.  Thankfully it did.  The flight was delayed approximately by one hour.  Sigh of relief.

The emotions start all over again once the passengers start to arrive.  I am regular at airport pickup as my husband travels a lot for work.  Also, I always offer to pick friends, relatives, exchange students (Just those who are going to stay with me).  It always feels the same.  They are never the first ones to come out.  I start to wonder if mum was having issues at customs or quarantine.  More at quarantine, if she has brought some food item that is not allowed in Australia.  We always joke that bringing drugs into our country might be easier than bringing some fruit.  Fellow Aussies think about it a kilo of drugs vs a kilo of bananas?  I share this joke in a hushed voice to the guy sitting next to me to kill time.

Finally I see a familiar face and a familiar load of luggage. Mum doesn’t believe in travelling light.  I hug her tight with relief.  I didn’t even comment on her luggage.

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/patience/

 

 

Posted in Daily post

Mumma!!! I just killed a Cactus…

cactus

If Freddie Mercury has seen my garden before he sang Bohemian Rhapsody his lyrics could have been about a dead cactus rather than him declaring to his mother about killing a man.

You know how they say certain family traits skips a generation.  Well it certainly did when it came to my gardening skills.  Well a few more things could be added to that, sewing, knitting and other artistic skills.  My mother is a queen of all trades and I am master of none.  My mum has the ability to grow things out of nothing while I manage to kill a fully grown plant.

I am scientist’s daughter and I believe that I am trying to prove Charles Darwin’s theory of “survival of the fittest” in my garden.  Time to time I experiment which ones can survive the longest without water etc.  Of course there are casualties in this experiment.  Yes as per my heading suggests, I did kill a cactus.

I have rearranged Freddie’s song and my version as follows.  Sorry for all “Queen” fans if you find this appalling.  I love him too.  But seriously he was a musical genius but completely out of his mind.  I believe my lyrics makes more sense.

 

Is this the real life
Is this just madness
Caught in a heatwave
No escape from sun
Can’t Open my eyes
I Look out the curtains and see
I’m just a poor gardener, Please I need sympathy
Because plants are easy come, easy go,
Little water, no water
Anyway the hot wind blows, doesn’t really matter to me – to me

Mama, I just killed a cactus,
I didn’t put a gun against it’s head,
I didn’t Pull the trigger, but it’s dead,
Mama, spring has just begun,
But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away
Mama, ooo,
Didn’t mean to make you ashamed
I will be back again this time tomorrow
To Carry on, carry on, as if gardening matters

Too late, time has come,
For the cactus with the spines
It’s hot all the time,
Goodbye all the dead plants – sorry you got to go –
you all left me behind and to face the truth
Mama, ooo –
I don’t want to kill my plants,
I sometimes wish I’d never had a garden at all –

I am just a poor girl no plant seems love me

(ok I am going to miss the next verse it’s the one with “Gallileo, Gallileo”, it’s too crazy to decipher even after a glass of gin)

So you think you can shame me and wither right in front of my eye
So you think you can love me and leave me to die
Oh Cactus – why did you do that to me
You got me to be the worst Gardner of the year

Nothing really matters
Anyone can see
Nothing really matters, nothing really matters – to me

………

Not true, The Garden matters to me, but not matter enough for me to wither in the scorching sun.  And sometimes I take the time to water them and apparently, I’ve stifled the plant with too much water.  Excuse me, I can’t seem to win.

I don’t ask for sympathy but maybe a bit of empathy.

 

 

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/sympathize/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/stifle/

http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/f/freddie_mercury/mamma_lyrics.html

 

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

Liebster Award

Awards are always special, it’s shows that I have touched a fellow blogger with my writing, my thoughts and my stories.  Thank you for nominating me for the  LIEBSTER AWARD jack0falltrade.wordpress.com

Thanks for the A Tree’s Roots too.

via A big Thank You for the Liebster Award!!

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Rules for Accepting It

  • Write about it on your blog and thank the person who nominated you, write about their blog too.
  • Display the award on your blog.
  • Nominate 5 to 10 blogs which you feel deserve it.
  • Let the nominees know that you nominated them.”

 

“Don’t forget to create 10 questions for them to answer. Notify your nominees and provide a link to your post so that they’ll know what to do. Once you’re done, come back here and comment with the link to your post so I can check out your answers.”” (In A Tree’s RootsLiebster Award – Thank You)

 My nominees are

https://afterwards.blog/

https://blazeofobscurity.wordpress.com/

https://muddledmindfulness.com/

https://helsinkibudapest.wordpress.com/

https://missmwriter.wordpress.com/

Questions from Jackofalltrade

  • If you are going to be renamed, what name would you choose?

I like my name, there are many stories about the way my dad chose my name so I wouldn’t change it.

  • If you are given a time machine and a chance to change one incident of your life, what would it be?

I don’t know about one incident but I would like to use it after each time I gobble down chocolate.

  • What is your favorite breakfast, Lunch and dinner?

Boring as it may seam but I love muesli for breakfast, I load it up with all kinds of nuts, pumpkin seeds and chia seeds.

Lunch and dinner I could live on sushi.

  • What is more important Money or the Moral Value? Explain

For me morals come first.  But I have always had the privilege to say it as I didn’t struggle to pay my bills.  So I am not going to judge those who have to struggle to make ends meet making decisions not based on Morals.  However, when Multinationals or billionaires make decisions based on profit rather than morals, then I have an issue with that.

  • List your three all-time favorite songs?

Tough to just pick 3. But I will do my best

  1. No woman no cry – Bob Marley
  2. Never Tear us apart – Michael Hutchence
  3. Take me home country Road – John Denver
  • What scares you the most? Why?

Death. Not mine.  I won’t be there to feel mine.  But the thought of losing another loved one seems possible and inevitable.  I don’t handle that very well.

  • If world is going to end, on that last moment whom you want to be with?

With my family.  and that includes my dog as well.

  • Some words about world terrorism.

I could be a victim, and for no fault of mine.  That really annoys me.  Who is to be blamed? Religion and world leaders.  Who takes responsibility? No one.

  • Do you know that you are an Idiot? Yes | No

Of course.

🙂 Just for fun, No offense ;P

None taken. World without laughter looks very grey.

  • Last but not least, how blogging enters your life and what are all the changes it made?

Blogging entered my life because I wrote my story about my cancer survival.  Some of my friends suggested that I publish it as a book.  When I looked into publishing I realised it was a lot of mundane work eg: formatting. So couple of other friends suggested that I blog,  as they thought it would be helpful and inspirational to many others.  I love the blogging world.  It has become great companion.

Okay here goes my questions for my nominees

  1. Your thoughts on love, lust and marriage.
  2. Has someone influenced you positively or negatively in your life? Who and how
  3. What was biggest milestone in your life?
  4. What’s your favourite travel destination? why
  5. Your 3 top pick movies
  6. Your 3 top pick books or authors
  7. What do you like about your country?
  8. What do you hate about your country?
  9. What’s your go to junk food?
  10. How and why did you start blogging?

 

Thanks a lot for accepting the nomination, Have a great year ahead.

 

 

 

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

Why Do Saggers Sag? Read the Answer to this Million Dollar Question

By Barber Ahmed

Babar Ahmad's avatarBabar Ahmad

#sagging Coming to prison in 2004 was a culture shock to me. From my job at a university where I rubbed shoulders daily with professors, lecturers and PhD students, I was now in a prison, living amongst gang-members, drug-dealers and thieves.

I had a lot of catching up to do by learning new aspects of life that I hadn’t previously been exposed to. One of these aspects was sagging.

For those unenlightened souls amongst you, sagging is the art of wearing your trousers/pants (Americans, Brits: delete as appropriate please) in a way that defies the laws of gravity.

As one sagger from New York would one day explain to me, “The lower the better.”

Sagging is the art of wearing your trousers in a way that defies the laws of gravity.

It was during my first few days in prison, while still in the UK, that I spotted my first…

View original post 1,279 more words

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

I met him online ….

leo baby

I ponder for a subject to write about today.  On cue my companion nudges me to remind me of the time, it’s dinner time.  His stomach clock is better than the latest ‘Fit Bit’.

There was recently a blogger requesting all to share their love stories and made me want to write about someone other than my “Dandelion Guy”  https://uma197.wordpress.com/2017/01/19/the-story-of-the-dandelion-guy/

 

I met him online …..

This was my first time going online and drooling over different types bodies.  Some very masculine, some just petite and cute.  I hadn’t decided and I didn’t know what type would suit me and my family.  With that excuse I spent hours researching about different breeds.  Luckily dogs don’t call you out on generalising them as per their breeds. I think that would be pure breedism (there is actually a thing called dog breed discrimination obviously – I invented breedism).  I saw a comment that referred to Beagles as great landscapers.  I am sure there are Beagles who don’t dig and there are other breads who may dig. Anyway I am someone who does a Phd before buying toothbrush (mmm… pity I didn’t do that when picking my husband), so I continued with my research.

I had spent days searching through websites of animal shelters, dog breeders etc, one day while at work, let’s say during my lunch break, I continued with my online perving, then I just stopped.  My eyes fell on this adorable hunk of meat.  His eyes, his googly eyes just hooked me right in.  I rang the phone number given and said “I want him”.  I rang my husband and said the same thing.  It was love at first sight.

That afternoon we picked our boys from school and headed straight to meet my new guy. He was simply divine. There were others with him, they were cute too.  But, my eyes did not sway. I looked at Peter, the owner and said “Yes, I want him”.

It was a hot day, a very hot day, so Peter told us that it was too hot for him to travel that day and to return next day.  The forecast was cooler temps for the following day.  He gave us advise on things to get ready for his arrival.  But we paid for him and returned home slightly disappointed to return home empty handed.  Not exactly empty handed, we took home his new bedding, his own crockery, toys, food etc.

I couldn’t sleep all night. The few times I dozed off, were filled with dreams of my little cuddly boy.  The next day slowly dawned.  I still had to get through the drudge of the days living responsibilities.  Finally school pick up and we go straight to see Peter.  Leo2

He is mine.  Apparently he is ours and I have to share.  Okay I will share but he is mine.

He is of mixed parents.  Not sure who is who but one of them was a Pug and the other a King Charles Cavalier.  He wears the wrinkles better than anyone I know.  His snout is flat but not flat as a pancake as the pure pugs.  His name is Mr. Galileo Ganesan and mostly referred to as Leo.

He is a Foodie.  He has even tried out bird seed.  He went through a lot of trouble to obtain that treat and may have been disappointed to find that it didn’t taste as good as the Kangaroo Salami that Arj (my youngest) has packed to take to Japan. Well that was really to his liking as the next day he showed interest in tasting the second pack.  It was so good he even didn’t mind the wrapper or the metal clip at the bottom.  He enjoys the fruits from our garden.  It doesn’t bother him that the peaches have pits, he just downs it all in one go.  But his personal favourite is my mum’s Sri Lankan “Hoppers”.  hoppers

Loves his creature comforts.  He doesn’t see the point in sleeping on the floor when you can sleep on the couch.  A couch with cushions is even better. What would make it perfect would be a heat pack.  These are not things we have given him, these are things that he acquires himself.

leo on couch

leo on cushion

Some may refer to him as “fat”, I prefer the word “portly”, yes I think he just a bit portly. And it could be muscles and not fat?

This gorgeous thing has a serious side to him too.  He came to me, at one of my darkest of times.  I was on remission but then I had to go for another surgery to remove another lump.  Surgery was brutal, but the recovery was even worse.  I could hardly move.  Once my husband and son left home, it was just him and me.  He knew that I was in pain, he followed me from bed to the couch.  He kept me company, he kept guard outside the bathroom door.  He was my companion and he was my Protector.  This surgery was 5-6 years ago.  But just like that scars that remain in my body, he remembers it far too well not to guard the bathroom door. So even to date he keeps watch outside my bathroom everyday.  Doesn’t like anyone coming home after a blood test with the bandaid on the inside of the elbow.  He knows too well, it was a sign mum wasn’t well.

He understands packing a suitcase means someones departure.  He doesn’t mind my husband packing just the hand luggage, he knows dad’s just going for business and will be back tomorrow.   But big bags means big leave.  He will start to mope and his eyes will droop.  It will break your heart and rip your soul.

Yes, I met him online.  There is truth in “love at first sight”.

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

Earth Cried…

Reblogging another fellow bloggers thoughts

Raj's avatarXDrive

Since thousands of years, our earth looked the very same. The blue sky shined above and plenty green on the earth. Skies sprayed the fresh water whenever earth needed. Sun gave the warmth after those cold winters! It all repeated in rhythm year after the year, all in a harmony…. Earth Smiled.

Then came the humans, intelligent creatures. They built the walls, wrote the rules, restricted the freedom for their selfishness in the name of safety. Forced themselves into something they never wanted. They even misused God. They destroyed each other even forgot that once there was a smiling earth …. Earth Cried

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Posted in Daily post

The Word Patina..what evokes?

Working from home can sometimes be a bit challenging.  It demands discipline at a time procrastination wants to raise it’s ugly head.  My fingers seem to wander off opening all other tabs – Facebook, email and abc news.  I like to stop there as delving into them is usually a very short stop.  Sometimes I would open up WordPress as well. And the worst one is Korean Dramas.  I don’t like the last two tabs as I know it’s not going to be a short stop.  Today is one of those days.  Work seems to be  wandering faraway, but it’s okay the deadlines aren’t here yet too.  As my son and I sometimes joke  “if it’s not the due date then it’s not the do date”.

I normally write at night, after I have done my days dues.  It’s my guilty pleasure, my small treat.  Not today, I have decided to take a day off, maybe not the whole day but at least a few hours off to do some reading and writing.

Work is important as it pays the bills.  But leisure is important because it gives a worthwhile reason to work.  That’s my excuse for today anyway.

I peek at the word prompts on wordpress and ponder which word, which subject takes my fancy.

Patina –  Evokes the memories of my Old English master.  He wasn’t our school teacher but an external Tutor the nuns recruited for the boarders.  He was tall and huge.  I particularly remember the tiny glasses that sat on the edge of his nose.

My passion and advancement for the English language was molded by mainly Four individuals.  My dad – he introduced me to many classics, Rudyard Kipling’s “Just So Stories” was one of them.  Needless to say that’s what I read as bedtime stories to my kids.  My dad introduced me to another old relative, not sure how he was related to us, that was Mr Ganeshan.  He was amazing at picking an unusual word and describing it with gusto.  So he was my second mentor.  The third was this Old English Master.  He was an imposing figure and we were meek and humble in front of him.  Many hated his vocabulary lessons.  But the nerd in me welcomed his lessons.  Patina was his word.  Before I ponder away into memories and let you wonder who the forth mentor was.  Well it’s my hubby.  Until I met him I read many books, but mainly romance.  I didn’t mind detective stories and yes Sherlock Holmes was on the list.  Hubby introduced me to a whole different world.  Never in a million years would I have read books such as “Hunt for red October”  or the Borne series.  Not my cup of tea would have been my answer.  But he encouraged me and said just read the first chapter and give up if you still don’t like it.  Mentors come in all shapes and sizes.

PATINA – bellows out our master – a pause and the word repeated again.  Dictionaries aren’t allowed to be open until we’ve been told so.  I had no idea what it meant.  No one did, I was eagerly waiting for his explanation while some had already moved on to daydream.  He points us to the St Joseph’s Bronze Statue that dominates the room.  “The green stuff on the bottom, that’s Patina”.  Huh! what an anti climax.  That’s just mere oxidation.  He went onto explain how and when you would use that word in normal conversation.

I was young then, I didn’t think further than that about that word since then.  But seeing it on the list here, it did evoke old memories and new musings.

Memories of my dad – movies, songs, books, studies, humanity, my dad had a hand in all of that. Even him introducing Mr. Ganeshan was all part of his grand plan.  It appears that there is a film of Patina still lingering over the silhouette of my body, the untimely death of my dad, life lessons learnt after his passing, no amount of polishing seems to remove the stubborn patina.

I wonder if we are meant to cherish the Patina, rather than remove it, as if it’s a foreign body. Why not celebrate the multitude of colours as a symbol of  life, age, history, memories and lessons learnt.

 

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/patina/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/treat/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/evoke/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/dominant/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/cherish/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/silhouette/

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

Happy Australia Day

Australia-Day

Happy Australia Day to all my fellow Aussie mates.  Hope you are toasting somewhere by the beach or the pool with a stubby in one hand and a sausage sanga (Sausage Sandwich) on the other watching over your mates playing backyard or beach cricket.

For most Australians (Australia Day) simply represents a public holiday which gives them an excuse to fire up the Barbie (BBQ), sausages, beers a game of cricket, pavlova and pretty much talk “shit”as Aussies would refer it.  Most Australians at most times are pretty chilled people.  This has been noted by most tourists who come to this country.  We are a nation of genuinely nice people.  We may not have the polish to cover up and talk politely and be politically correct but even the guy who sounds racist is usually a pretty nice guy.

A friend of mine who came over from North America was amazed how random people just opened up to her in the bus or the plane and were super helpful.  I recollect a time when I went to Canada with then my two very young children, I went via Hawai.  My youngest was a runner/escape artist.  So I had  to hang on to him on one hand other with all the luggage.  Had three passports and all other documents to hold as well.  Unlike in Australia there were too many check points.  And each time I think that’s the last of it and put the passports back in the handbag and then come across another check point.  Ughh! They had no sympathy for a mother with two young kids, instead they would get irritated that I didn’t have the papers ready. Same treatment when coming back, I was on this constant stress mode when I arrived at the Sydney Airport.  Waiting for my bags to arrive and keep the young one on check, a middle aged man standing next to me said to me “love just stand here and point me to your luggage and I will get it for you” and he just did that, packed all my luggage carefully on the trolley and put my boys in it too.  I got to the counter and as there was no queue in front of me I didn’t get a chance to get the documents out.  I was again on panic mode trying to get them out.  The lady at the counter “love take your time, it’s ok” and she started to chat to my kids.  I thought “I’m home”.

I am a migrant from Sri Lanka, I arrived here twenty eight years ago and became an Australian Citizen 26 years ago exactly today.  Hubby and I were expecting our first child and the Citizenship ceremony took place in Hornsby, NSW.  It was really an awesome day.  It felt like the beginning of many great things to come by.  And it sure did.  A conscious effort was made to make us feel welcomed and a new chapter was opened in our lives.  Even so, I think within me for a long time I felt like a guest.  I was happy where I was staying but didn’t feel it was my place.  When ever I mentioned “back home” it meant Sri Lanka.  I think the first time I referred to Australia as my home was on this return journey from Canada.

Hear me out completely before you cast that stone “ungrateful”. I wasn’t ungrateful, far from it.  As each year notched I became more relaxed in my new environment and I could feel a shift in my mannerisms and way of thinking.  I was becoming used to the Aussie Larrikin and was starting like him/her.  I am still a mixed bag in terms of my identity.  When I am asked “where are you from” at times I would say “from Sri Lanka” but there are times I have caught my self saying, we are originally from Sydney, then we moved to Adelaide…”  I have no shame or issue of my ethnicity.  Do I ooze with so much pride that I refuse to call myself Australian? On the contrary, I feel so much pride in saying I am an Australian.

So much so, I am comfortable calling out on the mistakes, errors and simply things we should rectify.  I am no more a guest, I am now a family member.  I will support, I will stand up for, I will protect but I will also call you out when you are wrong.

The great debate at present – should we change the date of  Australia Day? 

For the first Australians the Aborigines this seems to be very important, as this day represents something very dark in their history.  It wasn’t the day that English really landed in Australia however throughout history, on the 26th of January the English set up or did horrible things to Aborigines. There was even once a Beach umbrella type thing set up called the ‘Aboriginal Embassy’ as to represent ‘Aliens on our land’  They kept reminding them with their actions that they stole this land from them and now they are foreigners in their own country.

The aborigines lost their land, their identity, their language, their families and eventually their self worth.

I do not believe in punishing or blaming the current generation for the mistakes of the old.  We all need to move on.  But for the victim it is easier said than done.

I know many fair minded White Australians despise the way some Aborigines behave.  Using the past issues as excuses for their drinking, gambling and unemployment.  As a fellow tax payer I can understand their frustrations.  The only way forward is education, empathy and mutual respect.  All these actions has to be two way.  We need to educate ourselves about them and them about us and same goes for empathy and mutual respect.  It goes well past not calling each other “white fellas” and “Black fellas”

For me 26th of January is an important day as that was the day I became an Australian legally.  However, happy to move the celebrations to another day so everyone in this country can celebrate it.

I even have a day for that.  February 13th.  It was the day we said “sorry” to the aborigines.  It was day that moved the first Australians and descendants of the first fleet Australians. “Sorry” is a simple word but a damn powerful word.

After the big riots in 1983 in Sri Lanka when the whole country went on a rampage of killing innocent Tamils no one said “sorry” not even close.  The country’s then President J.R Jaywardene went on T.V for his first press conference and explained that the “Sinhela people reacted to the 13 Army soldiers being killed by the militants in the north” not one word to say that this was in fact something wrong. pointless, mindless act.  Not one single word, the whole speech almost condoning the actions of the masses.  Months later my friend Lalith sent me a letter, it was not a long letter, it simply said “I’m sorry, I am ashamed” he went on to ask if I was okay, etc.  But none of that mattered.  The only words that keep ringing in my ears were “I am sorry”.  He was just a young teenager at that time.  But he was sincere, he was courageous, He was respectful.

If we are serious about reconciliation we need to start with respect.  Even if you do not care about reconciliation and simply want them to get off their back sides and do a days work and get off the dole, this is the only way – RESPECT.

The day we said sorry to them was a great starting point.  Let’s start there.  Let’s remind ourselves each year, what we did on the 13th Feb 2008.  Let it be a day that we are all proud of.

Time for another piece of Pav.

 

 

https://www.sbs.com.au/nitv/article/2017/01/18/10-things-you-should-know-about-january-26